


Music and the Mirror

by wabbitseason



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Community: comicdrabbles, Dancing, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-25
Updated: 2012-07-25
Packaged: 2017-11-10 18:19:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/469257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wabbitseason/pseuds/wabbitseason
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dancers were perfectionists, always wanting to improve their last performance. Natalia was no different. She always wanted to move forward, not backward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Music and the Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> Mild spoilers for Winter Soldier #8. Written for comicdrabbles prompt #003: Dancing

_I am a dancer._

The mental cues reinforced the hidden commands in Natalia's mind, while her body played its part. All those decades had toned her body so she moved with the same believable grace and agility of a ballerina. She whipped her body around on one leg – again and again until the movement was one fluid motion, finishing the final pirouette a half beat behind the accompaniment. She would have to work harder on that, correct that flaw the next time. Dancers were perfectionists, always wanting to improve their last performance. Natalia was no different. She always wanted to move forward, not backward.

Every little girl in Russia wanted to be a ballerina when they were growing up. Was that not why she trained so hard? Was that not why she was accepted at such a young age at the Bolshoi Academy? Wasn’t that why she had sacrificed so much?

So Natalia continued to dance, even though she could only dimly remember learning the steps. Did she turn to the prince here or was she supposed to look shyly away? Her focus never wavered, resolutely certain of her role. Today she was a swan, delicate and beautiful. Tomorrow she might be a princess or a courtesan or a nymph. So many different roles for her to play, so many different ways to hide.

But the hidden Natalia would notice details she couldn't explain. Why her hands felt more accustomed clenched into fists not delicately stretched over her head in an arabesque. Why she remembered lacing soldier’s boots not satin toe shoes. Why her feet showed no calluses or blisters forming from the wear and tear. Why her mind's eye showed a room filled with little girls not practicing pliés at the barre but shooting target practice.

_Who was she?_


End file.
